Firestorm (21 page)

This is what it’s all about
, Reyne thought.
To have lived life and be remembered intimately in the hearts of many
. In small ways and in big ways, Beth had reached out and touched people. And behind her she had left a legacy.

There had been several moments when the group had laughed through their tears, remembering sweet, tender times with Beth. The hymns Beth had chosen for her own memorial service were upbeat, full of hope and praise.
Just like you, Beth
, Reyne thought softly, speaking in her mind to her dear friend.

The burial was swift, and they moved through it in a blur. Matt placed a red rose on the casket, and Hope laid a tiny, soft-pink rosebud on top of it. Then she turned away and lifted her arms, silently asking to be picked up, and Matt swiftly complied.

“Ashes to ashes, dust to dust,” Arnie said, throwing a handful of dark, rich dirt. Reyne’s breath caught at the poignancy of the moment.
That’s what you were to us, Beth. Rich, fertile soil to our souls. Thank you. Thank you for all you taught me, shared with me
.

“We are sorry that Beth has left us,” Arnie said as they lowered the casket in front of him, looking about the group gathered there. A light wind blew his hair into his face, and he reached up to push it back. “She leaves a huge void in our hearts, but friends, let us celebrate for her. Let us be happy, knowing that her pain has ended and she is in paradise.”

He was silent for a minute, pursing his lips and bowing his head, letting them all ponder the thought. Then he continued, “Let us finish this day in prayer. Please lift up your own thoughts and thanks as you feel led to do so. I’ll close us when we’re done.”

For half an hour the group prayed and praised the Lord for all the good things that Beth had shown them, shared with them. And in the end, they all agreed that the service had been just as Beth would have wanted: a celebration of her life and the hereafter, not a mournful farewell.

Gradually the group dispersed, each stopping to hug or speak to Matt in soft, hushed tones. When they were all gone, only the Tanners, Logan, and Reyne remained with him and Hope. Hope had skipped off, dragging a long branch over tombstones that lay in the ground and stopping to run her hands over the cool marble of various monuments while her grandparents numbly watched over
her. Matt remained at the grave, staring down into the hole and at the glossy cover of Beth’s casket.

Before long, his shoulders shook with gut-wrenching sobs. Reyne looked from him to his little girl, wondering about the best way to help them. Dirk was right there. “Why don’t you and Rachel take Hope home?” he suggested. “Beth’s folks have to take Rachel’s parents to the airport, and I think Hope’ll need a little mothering about now. Matt’s not in great shape. Logan and I’ll take care of him.”

Reyne nodded, glancing up toward Matt again. She moved toward Logan for a brief, encouraging hug and kiss, then motioned to Rachel. Reyne told her what they had discussed, and her friend quickly agreed.

“Come on, Hope, honey,” Rachel called to the little girl. Hope skipped over to her, and Rachel gathered her up in her arms. “How about an ice-cream cone?” she asked.

“Okay,” she said, watching over her shoulder as the women carried her out of the cemetery. “Is Daddy coming?”

“No, pumpkin. Daddy’s got to have some time to be sad about your mommy. He’s going to miss her, just like you.”

Reyne walked beside them, listening. “But you know what your mommy would want you to do?”

Hope looked at her with a slight frown and shook her head.

“She’d want you to cry when you have to, but also to smile and hold your head up high.”

“ ’Cause she went to live with Jesus?”

“That’s right. And if she were here, she’d order a triple-scoop ice-cream cone and make your Aunt Rachel pay for it.”

“You’d better believe it,” Rachel said.

“Can we bring Daddy a cone too?” Hope asked doubtfully.

“Sure, sweetheart,” Reyne said. “I think he deserves a whole gallon of ice cream today. You can pick the flavor.”

Logan went to Reyne’s that evening, stopping in town to pick up hamburgers and french fries from the Elk Horn Drive-in. He had spent the afternoon with Matt and Dirk up in the beautiful prayer chapel Dirk Tanner had built at Timberline, asking the Lord to sustain Matt and to grant him wisdom in parenting a little girl on his own. Matt seemed to gain strength from the fellowship with his brothers.

Reyne opened the door, looking as exhausted as Logan felt. “I took a chance that you hadn’t eaten,” he said, walking in.

“No way. After our triple-scoop ice-cream cone at noon, I felt sick all afternoon.” She collapsed on the sofa and then raised one eyebrow. “But I have to admit that smells great.”

Logan walked over to the kitchen counter, unloading their dinner onto plates and stealthily taking the phone off the hook. Outside the kitchen window, a storm was brewing. Great big cumulonimbus clouds gathered in a bank that billowed and swirled as if angry at the mountains at their feet.

Reyne joined him at the window. “That looks like I feel,” she said.

Logan nodded and pulled her into his arms. “Let’s eat outside. Watch the storm build.”

“Okay. We can pull the wicker chairs around from the other side of the house. Why don’t you do that, and I’ll bring out the food.”

Logan went out to the porch, and after surveying two broad chairs and a small sofa, he decided on a chair for two. “McCabe, you
are
a scoundrel,” he said under his breath, smiling at the thought of sitting near Reyne.

Reyne came out with the food, looked up at him with a quick grin to say she had noticed his chair choice, and then settled in with him. They ate in companionable silence, their minds swirling with thoughts, much like the skies above them. The waning day cast its remaining sunset on the clouds, making them seem to live with an eerie, burnt orange light. Heat lightning flashed deep inside the largest cloud, and a shiver of foreboding shot down Reyne’s spine.

“This is no ordinary storm brewing.”

“No.”

On and on the storm roiled, becoming more dramatic as the surrounding skies grew darker and its own light intensified. The sunset’s reflection soon faded, but the lightning continued. The air was becoming blustery as the two finished their quiet dinner, and Logan drew Reyne closer beside him. The wind came as a welcome respite to their ongoing heat wave, breaking the humid stillness with a hint of coolness.

“You realize that this means fire,” Reyne said as the first lightning bolts broke free of the clouds and cut their way down toward the earth. In seconds, thunder pealed, so loud that they could feel the reverberations inside their chests.

“We should go inside to watch,” Logan said, ignoring her statement and shoving away guilty thoughts of the intentionally off-the-hook phone inside. “We need some time just to think about Beth and remember. Let’s not think about fire. There will be time enough for that later.”

“Agreed,” Reyne said. They grabbed their plates and glasses and
napkins before the wind could rip them away and made their way inside.

Logan moved to turn on the lamp by Reyne’s overstuffed, high-backed chair, but Reyne’s voice stopped him.

“No, Logan. No lights. Let’s just watch the show.”

Logan shot her a surprised smile, then moved to help turn her sofa around to face the living-room picture window. He sat down, and Reyne snuggled in beside him. With the wind blowing through the open kitchen window, the air turned surprisingly brisk. They could smell the rain coming.

But the cool air was refreshing, and they left the window open, deciding to cover up instead. Reyne pulled an afghan over them and tucked a corner around Logan, playfully exaggerating her fussing. Logan drew her closer, and they kissed softly.

When she moved back, Reyne looked deep into Logan’s eyes. “I’m so glad you’re here, Logan. I don’t think I could’ve made it through these last days without you.”

He tenderly traced her jaw line. “Sure, you would have. You’re strong, Reyne. So’s your faith. You would’ve made it just fine. But I’m glad I was able to be here too. For you. To say good-bye to Beth. And for Matt.”

Reyne listened to Logan intently, then settled even closer to him, resting her head on his chest and wrapping her arms around him. Logan reached up to stroke her hair, staring out at the murderous storm and wondering how many fires it might start.

The small trees that Reyne had planted were nearly doubled over, no match for the ferocious wind. Finally, when it seemed that the storm was directly overhead and shaking the cottage at its foundations, the rain came … blessed, giant drops that met the roof and splattered.

It came down so suddenly and so hard that Reyne raised her head, peering out the window. “Is it hailing?”

“I don’t think so. Just big rain.”

“Great. I’ve asked for rain for weeks. And now, when we finally get it, it comes down like bullets bent on killing every flower in my garden.”

“Maybe it’s not as hard as it sounds,” he tried.

“Maybe.” She thought for a moment. “But it’s somehow appropriate, you know? For as much as I put on a happy face for Matt and tried to celebrate as Beth asked us to, I’m really sad. I don’t feel like ever planting another flower again.”

“You will, love,” Logan said, stroking her hair again. “And even if you don’t, God will take the flowers you’ve planted and bring them back year after year. Love is like that. It goes through seasons, but if it’s strong, it comes back ’round.”

She glanced up at him, her eyebrow raised in gentle surprise.

“What?”

“Nothing. It’s just that I’m surprised to hear you speak so poetically.”

“What? My love hast not seeneth my heart’s deepest desire? Lo! It is near! Thou must only looketh for it!” Logan said dramatically in mock Shakespearean, jumping at the chance to make her laugh.

“Oh, Logan,” Reyne giggled, “that was
really
bad.”

Logan smiled and let her comment go, pleased that he could still make her grin on such a dark day.
Maybe, just maybe
, he thought,
something good will come out of all this pain. Maybe we’ll end up with a real celebration after all
.

D
espite Logan’s protest, Reyne replaced the phone on the hook as soon as she discovered it was off, and just as he had feared, it rang within a minute. Reyne answered. With a grim look on her face, she handed the receiver to him.

“Logan, this is the interagency dispatch center,” said a formal-sounding man. “We have obtained permission from the Northwest Forestry Company to utilize your team as boosters for our Missoula crew. Can you mobilize by tomorrow?”

Logan looked over at Reyne, searching her face. The adrenaline poured through his body at the thought of another big fire. Yet everything in him made him want to stay.
If this keeps up
, he thought,
it’s gonna tear me in two
.

He looked away from Reyne and concentrated on the dispatcher, who was describing the numerous fires in Oregon and Northern California. They needed smokejumpers, and they needed them now. “Okay,” he said, making his decision, “I’ll rendezvous with my crew and move ’em out. Where do you want us?” He grabbed a pen and paper, shutting out the image of Reyne’s crestfallen face.

When he hung up, Reyne remained where she was, waiting. “Reyne, I, uh …”

“You said you’d be here as long as I needed you.”

“Hey, you were the one who decided to hang up the phone. I told you—”

“You told me you’d be here.” She did not sound petulant, just adamant.

Logan circled the kitchen counter and sat beside her. “Listen, love. If you ask me to, I’ll stay. I think you know by now that you’re my first priority. But they need me. And I’d bet a thousand dollars that they’ll be calling you any minute too. They’ve got fires from Mexico to Washington. Don’t you think that it would be good for both of us to concentrate on something else?”

Reyne rose and walked to the window, staring as raindrops crawled down the pane. “You said you’d be here for me. For Matt.”

Logan sighed, thinking. Then he went to stand behind her. He placed his hands on her shoulders. She did not move. “And I’m asking you if it’s okay to leave. I’ll call Matt. But I want an okay from you first.”

They stood there for long seconds that seemed like hours before she spoke. Then she said, “I’m trying, Logan, I really am. Beth talked long and hard to me about trusting and living every moment to its fullest, and I want to do that. I do. But Logan, I just lost one of the dearest friends I’ve ever had. And now you’re telling me I have to risk you too.”

Logan swallowed, willing away the trite, easy answers that sprang to mind. He wanted her beside him. But Oxbow had created a major hurdle for them.
Dear Father, help me. Help me help Reyne. Give me the words that will shore up her heart
. “I’ve found,” he began carefully, “that when I risk, I gain. You have to go with your heart, go where God’s leading. But do you hear me, Reyne?” He paused to turn her around to face him. “I’m asking you to let me go. I won’t go without knowing you’re okay with it.”

She turned away, avoiding his gaze, then finally met his eyes.
“And how am I supposed to tell you no? Tell you not to go after the very thing you love to do?”

He thought about his conversation with Thomas Wagner a week prior. The United States Fire Service had offered Logan a full-time job in fire management. He would supervise smokejumping operations across the country during big fires, and in between he could continue to train and shape the Elk Horn hotshot crew for the forestry company. But the position wouldn’t be opening up for another year. For now he had a job to do, if the woman he loved did not stand in the way.

Suddenly it hit him. What would happen if it came down to a choice between her and fire? Could he honestly walk away?

Logan searched Reyne’s eyes, willing her to give him the freedom to pursue his passion. He prayed silently that God would strengthen his love for Reyne so that if he had to, he could make the right choice. But he also prayed that God would strengthen Reyne, abolishing her fears about the front lines of firefighting.